


How Much is that Puppy in the Window?

by blakefancier



Category: Captain America (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Dom/sub, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 11:45:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/381024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Howard thought he knew what he was getting into. But it may be more than what he bargained for. </p>
<p>This story hints at dark!Steve and more than hints at pet!Howard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Much is that Puppy in the Window?

**Author's Note:**

> I may write more of this universe because Steve is whispering naughty things in my ear. But right now I need to work on the other stories I've been neglecting.

First impressions were not always the most lasting. Case in point, Howard's first impression of Steve Rogers had been no impression at all. Unless one counted disappointment. 

But as time wore on and he saw the man underneath the fragile appearance (and after, the perfect body), he couldn't help but be impressed. Which was quite a feat since Howard had stopped being impressed by things at the age of five, when his mother bought him a pony and his father promptly got rid of it.

So Steve was impressive, Howard was impressed, and things were just fine and dandy. As fine and dandy as war could be, that was. Howard concentrated on his work, because that was what he was paid to do—well, no, not *paid,* the military really couldn't afford him—but he concentrated on the job they asked him to do. It was a good job, interesting, and he got to try out all the wonderful ideas in his head and the soldiers were *grateful* for what he provided. They thanked him. And meant it. 

Wasn't that a kick in the pants?

He'd never had anyone thank him before, not for anything. And that was why he started going out with them after work, getting drunk and chatting with the lovely ladies at the pub. It felt good to have people like him. 

To have Steve, who was impressive, like him. 

More times than not, it was Steve who dragged him home after a night on the town. Who dumped him into bed and pulled off his shoes and told him to sleep it off. Steve, smiling affectionately, whose hand pushed into his hair, tousling it, then patted him on the head.

It was the affection that lingered in Howard's thoughts long after Steve was gone. It gave him a drowsy satisfaction to think about it, a warmth in his belly that made him stretch and wiggle against the bed before falling asleep. 

He might not have even considered the possibility of more, except that one night, he took a wrong turn into an alley. At first, he didn't know what he was seeing, but then his eyes adapted to the dark and he saw two men… they were… oh. Oh!

He stumbled away, his heart pounding in his chest, his mouth dry, an insistent ache between his legs.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t unsee it. It consumed his thoughts, conjuring image after image at the most inopportune times. He tried to subsume the thoughts in women, their scents, their kisses, their bodies, but it… it left him restless and unsatisfied. 

But then it always had, hadn't it?

And there was Steve, with his intense blue eyes and his big rough hands.

Howard imagined all sort of things Steve could do with those hands: petting and stroking and holding Howard down while he drove into Howard's body.

It would hurt, but afterward maybe Steve would hold him close and whisper nice things into his ear and… and take care of him. 

*****

Howard wasn't as drunk as he pretended to be, but it felt good to have Steve's arm around his waist, solid and dependable. If Howard were a girl, he might… she might press herself against Steve's body, might lick her lips, might lift her dress to show her thighs. Might take Steve's hand and slip it under that dress and let Steve feel how wet she was, how ready.

But Howard was not a girl, so when Steve pushed him down on the bed and removed his shoes, when Steve stroked his hair, then turned to go, Howard made a soft, needy sound.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, because Steve was a good guy.

Howard shook his head and plucked at his shirt. "Hot. Can't… off."

Steve sighed and gently batted Howard's hands away and undressed him.

He tried to hold still, but every time Steve undid a button a surge of excitement raced through him and he squirmed and whimpered and moved. 

Steve didn’t say a word, didn't chastise him or tell him to hold still. When Howard was undressed, Steve stared down at him, at the obvious arousal tenting his underwear, at the flush of his skin, and his panting mouth. Steve sat next to him on the bed and splayed a hand against the flat of Howard's stomach.

Howard's breath hitched in his throat, his nipples tightened in the cool of the room, and his cock jumped slightly

"Howard?" Steve said, slipping fingers under the waistband of his underwear, tracing the line of hair that went downward until Howard bucked and moaned. Then Steve slid his hand away and Howard whined again. "What do you want?"

He said the first thing that came to mind. "Touch me."

Steve shook his head and tried again. "What do you want?"

Wasn't it obvious? Wasn't it obvious what Howard wanted? He gripped the sheets and moaned. "Fuck me. Please, fuck me."

But Steve's eyes just narrowed, like he thought Howard was lying. "That's not what you want. Not really. Tell me what you want."

Howard didn't know what Steve wanted from him. He turned over, burying his face in his pillow, confusion and anger roiling in his belly.

"Look at me," Steve said, but Howard didn't move, refused to move. 

And so he didn't see Steve raise his hand, didn’t anticipate the blow. But he felt it, felt the hand strike his ass, felt the stinging pain, and the warmth that followed it. He cried out in surprise, his cock aching sweetly, his whole body suddenly infused with want. He rutted against the bed, moaning wantonly into the pillow. And he might have finished that way, but Steve jerked him onto his back, straddled his thighs and held him down.

"What do you want?"

He let out a frustrated cry, trying to arch up into Steve, and said, "Pay attention to me!"

Steve smiled, subtle and sly, and Howard flushed, turning his head away in embarrassment. "Oh," Steve said, curling his fingers around Howard's left hip. "Is that all?"

That was everything, but Steve didn't understand that. Couldn't understand that. He made people see him, even when he was nothing but an underfed runt. All anyone ever saw of Howard, wanted to see of Howard, if they wanted to see him at all, was the flash.

"Howard," Steve's fingers tightened painfully around his hip. "Howard, look at me. That's right, look at me. I'll give you what you want, everything you want, but you have to do something for me." 

Steve was staring at him, blue eyes intense, and Howard felt like a bug pinned to a board, vulnerable, helpless. "What?" he asked, and his voice was soft and shaky.

"You have to do what I say. Everything I say. Can you do that?" Steve nodded his head and Howard found himself mimicking the movement. "Say it for me. Say you promise to do what I say, everything I say."

"I…" He swallowed hard; his voice sounded so small. "I promise."

"Thank you," Steve said, then leaned down and brushed his mouth to Howard's. "Would you like me to pay attention to you now?"

Howard nodded. "Please?"

"Okay. Oh, shh, don’t be scared. I won't hurt you, sweetheart. I'd never hurt you." Steve rubbed his thumb along the crest of Howard's hip. "I'm going to take off your underwear and you're going to spread your legs. Then I'm going to make you feel good. You want that don't you, sweetheart?"

"Yes?" He was trembling and he didn’t know why. 

Steve hooked his fingers under the waistband of Howard's underwear and dragged them down, slowly. Howard's cock slapped wetly against his belly, then bobbed in the air, dripping with arousal. "Spread your legs," he said.

Howard let his thighs fall open and stared up at the ceiling, shivering when Steve traced a line up his thigh. 

"Pretty." Steve cupped his balls, caressed them, then slid a finger behind them, along his perineum to his puckered hole. "Have you ever had someone touch you here?"

Howard shook his head and clenched the pillow, moaning softly when Steve began to massage his opening. It made Howard feel hot and agitated and he turned his head and closed his eyes. 

"Don't you like that, Howard? Don't you like the way I pay attention to you?" Steve asked, his voice soft and warm.

"I… I don't know," Howard said. "It… it makes me feel…"

"Excited?"

His breath hitched in his throat. "Dirty."

"No, oh, Howard, no." Steve pulled his fingers away and Howard whimpered. "There's nothing dirty about this. How can it be dirty when it makes you feel so good?"

"I don't—"

"No, don't lie." Steve's fingers touched him again, and they were wet and slick from the lubricant Howard used for some of his machinery. "Your cock is dripping and you're flushed. Your body knows what it likes. And it likes my attention, doesn't it?" 

Tears prickled in Howard's eyes but he nodded.

"No one's ever taken care of you, have they? No one has ever given you what you need."

"No one," he said in a tiny voice. Every part of him felt tiny, insignificant.

"Then I'll be the first." Steve slowly penetrated Howard with a finger. 

He let out a cry, it hurt, just a little, but Steve just kept going until it was seated deeply in him.

"Shh, shh." Steve rubbed Howard's perineum with his thumb and that helped, it made something inside of him ease. "Back when I was a kid, there was this puppy that used to follow Bucky around, wagging its tail. No matter how much he tried to shoo it away, it kept coming back. It needed so much. Just like you, Howard, just like you need so much."

Steve curled his finger and, pleasure, hot and sharp raced through Howard. He cried out, arching back against the finger. "What—" he started to say, but Steve rubbed against that area inside of him and his words gave way to moans and whines. It was good, it was so, so good. He moved restlessly, rolling his hips.

"That's it, that's my good pet," Steve said, his voice thick with desire. "My good puppy."

Howard flushed hot at that, but didn't try to deny it. Couldn't deny it, not with Steve giving him this. 

"Almost there. Just need a bit more, don’t you?"

He nodded and reached for his cock, but Steve batted his hands away.

"No, no, you need this." And Steve pushed a second finger alongside the first.

Howard grunted at the burn of penetration, but didn't stop making those needy little sound, the whines and mewls and 'ahs.' Steve's fingers made a wet, squelching sound as they moved in him and knew he should find that shameful, but he found he couldn't care. Not now. His pleasure kept climbing higher and higher, until he felt like he was flying. "Please," he said, "Steve, let me. Let me, let me, let me!"

"Yes, go on, puppy. Go on."

And it was like a lightning bolt up his spine. He cried out Steve's name, his body spasming around the fingers as he spilled all over his belly. 

When all that was left of his pleasure was the tremor of his body, he opened his eyes to Steve's serious face. Steve's fingers were still inside of him, uncomfortably so, but he he knew it wasn't his place to say anything. Steve would choose what sort of affection Howard deserved.

"What a good pet," Steve said and Howard flushed something very much like satisfaction squirming in his belly. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone that you're queer."

Those words felt like punch to the mouth. Howard gasped and shook his head. "I’m not---" But then Steve curled his fingers inside of Howard and raised an eyebrow. And what could Howard say? Even if it was untrue, no one would believe him after what they'd done together. 

Steve trailed the fingers of his free hand across the mess on Howard's belly and said, "Open your mouth."

Howard hesitated, just a moment, then did what he was told. 

Steve slipped the fingers into his mouth and smiled. "Suck."

He closed his lips around the fingers and sucked them clean.

"What a good puppy. Such a good puppy." Steve caressed Howard's lips. "I'm going to take such good care of you."

Howard knew he shouldn't take comfort in those words, but God help him, he did.


End file.
